


I Know The End

by thechosentwo



Series: I Know The End AU [1]
Category: Back to the Future (Movies), Back to the Future: The Game
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Completed, Idiots in Love, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Smut, fluffier than it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25602988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechosentwo/pseuds/thechosentwo
Summary: Marty is spending a summer backpacking across Europe to avoid having to think about his future. While in Germany he meets an eccentric professor who forces him to confront some things about himself that he would have preferred stay hidden and uncomplicated. It seems like everything gets more complicated around him, and secrets can't be kept forever.
Relationships: Emmett "Doc" Brown/Edna Strickland, Emmett "Doc" Brown/Marty McFly
Series: I Know The End AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917658
Comments: 10
Kudos: 29





	1. A New Kind of Alchemy

Munich, Germany. Third stop on his trip. Marty had already been through England and France over the past 3 weeks. Both countries had been fascinating in their own right, and he had enjoyed visiting them. But now, if he was honest, he was exhausted. Marty missed home. He missed anything remotely familiar and above all he missed the shitty diner in the town square. He hadn’t had a good burger since he’d left. The hostel here was decent, at least. Clean and not too crowded. Only a few students and a married couple on their honeymoon. He was tempted to just stay in but his stomach protested. Food first, and maybe try some of that famous German beer. 

They were close to a university which meant bars and restaurants lined the streets like churches in the rural Midwest. He chose a less crowded one down a back alley with a name he didn't dare try to pronounce. Friday night, so it was a little further away than he had wanted to walk but what could you do? The noise still filtered down the alley from the main drag, students and semi-functional adults alike celebrating temporary freedom. That would be him partying this time next year, he thought idly, may as well enjoy the quiet while he could. He was already anxious about the hypothetical essay due on the hypothetical next Monday.

It was dimly lit, like any bar. The menu was indecipherable. He couldn't tell if it was the language, the lighting, or if he really did need glasses like Linda kept telling him. Either way he just ended up pointing to something on the menu and then pointing at the tap and saying "one" and hoping they got the gist. The bartender raised her eyebrows at him but shrugged and walked away to prepare his order. They ended up giving him a full pitcher of lager to himself and a plate full of sausages and fries, enough for three people. He looked at the dishes in desperation and then around him. 

There weren't many people in the bar. Three small groups talking amongst themselves, and an older man sitting three seats down at the counter, nursing an old fashioned. Marty watched for a second to decide if he looked creepy or not. He wasn’t about to butt into a group so the loner was probably his best option. The guy gave off profesor vibes- elbow patches and bifocals, but was too disorganized to be any kind of professional. Marty shrugged and waved to get the man's attention. It took a moment, as he appeared rather lost in thought, but then he started and looked at Marty. 

He wasn't handsome but he had an interesting face and bright, inquisitive eyes. He looked like an outsider, like someone who wouldn't mind a brief distraction. And best of all, he looked decidedly non threatening. 

Marty pointed to the beer and food. "Want some?" He asked. 

At that the man burst into a broad smile. Marty was taken aback by the charm of it. "American, huh?" He laughed and slid down until he was seated next to Marty. 

The man held out his hand to shake. "Doctor Emmett Brown, I teach at the University. You can call me Emmett if you like. It's been a while since I've spoken with another American around these parts!" 

He talked a mile a minute, and Marty got the impression he really was glad to meet him. He grinned sheepishly, swept up in the intensity of Emmett’s attention on him. "That obvious huh? Marty, nice to meet you." 

"Ah, no offense of course," he said as Marty poured a glass for the two of them. "You American students have a certain way of, well, actually talking to strangers is all." 

Marty laughed. He had noticed that people tended to keep to themselves more than not, even more than they did in France. "Well thanks for taking some of this off my hands. I don't know any German so I guess I just picked the wrong things." 

They chatted for a while over the sausages and beer. Emmett got noticeably tipsy much quicker than Marty, so he drained what was left of the pitcher to keep up. A pleasant buzz filled his head, and he found his hands kept going back to Emmett’s arms. The connection felt good, especially when Emmett was also holding his shoulder to tell him something with that crooked smile. He was a physics professor, honest to God. Specializing in theory and nuclear energy. Emmett was a professional after all, just one specialized enough that nobody cared if he was a little eccentric.

Emmett asked where he was from and what he was doing. A stone dropped in the pool of static and Marty hoped he could keep his face neutral. "Northern California. Just passing through, seeing a bit of the world before I settle down." The standard answer. 

It wasn’t clear when it happened, but at some point, their feet touched under the bar. He couldn't be bothered to move it, not when the contact felt so nice, so familiar, so hopefully tentative. The thought of losing it to go back to the mostly empty hostel was unfathomable. The loneliness that had been creeping up his spine finally struck a nerve. After that, his eyes started wandering across Emmett's fascinating face, and any attempt he was making at listening dropped away as they came to rest on the man's lips. 

Emmett swayed and placed another steadying hand on Marty's shoulder. The air changed between them. It felt electric, full of potential. If the way Emmett was looking at him was any indication, he felt it too. Marty was certain if either of them had been asked an hour ago if they had any sexual interest in men they both would have vehemently denied it. Now, God, would he say he did or would he claim it was the way Emmett’s eyes drew him in like black holes in the dim light? Even now he denied the attraction he felt, justifying it silently with the relief at hearing a familiar accent. Not that it mattered. Marty knew things were going to end the same whether he owned up to his reasons or not. 

"Would you like to see my lab?" It was half honest inquiry and half prayer that Marty would take it in a way neither of them wanted to admit he intended. 

"Sure," Marty said, wondering exactly what 'lab' could possibly be an innuendo for. 

As it turned out, it wasn't an innuendo at all. The place was an honest to god laboratory. Complete with beakers and one of those weird electric things that makes your hair stand up. Marty giggled as he stood in the doorway. Plenty of the stuff looked like shit from a sci-fi set, and yet here it was right in front of him. Maybe Emmett had lied about being a professor and was really a famous film director. The idea tickled him. Emmett beamed, obviously proud. He was unsteady on his feet and leaned against the door frame while trying to stuff his wallet in his pocket after paying the cab driver. 

"You're not gonna experiment on me, are ya?" Marty couldn't quite manage a wink, but he hoped he looked coy. 

Emmett finally gave up on the wallet and tossed it on the table, before taking a couple of steps towards Marty. His tone was teasing when he said, "Only in ways you'll like." 

Marty's heart skipped and the blood rushed from his head so fast he thought he might faint. Fuck. There wasn’t time to think about how forward he wanted to be. If he thought at all he would chicken out and be halfway back to the hostel. If he was going to do it he had to go through with it now, before rational thought snuck in past the alcohol. He didn't say anything as he closed the gap between them and put his hands on Emmett's waist. There was a softness to him, but Emmett was more solid than he looked. Marty looked up and met wide eyes with his own. 

Somehow they made it to the twin bed without tripping over each other or the clothes they shed haphazardly along the way. Marty heard an appreciative groan from behind him as he shoved his pants to the floor. Hands were on him before he could turn around, bringing him to the tip of his toes for a kiss. Emmett was as clumsy as Marty was, and Marty wasn't convinced Emmett had any more experience than he did. That was fine in his opinion, leveled the playing field. It made him less self-conscious about the amount of tongue he used, or the drool dripping off his chin while Emmett's balls were in his mouth. 

Knees against cold concrete and Emmett’s hand resting gently on his head, itching to grab his hair, Marty explored the length of Emmett’s cock with his tongue. After a few experimental strokes, he took the plunge and swallowed it as far as he could before choking. He pulled off and gagged. Emmett held his head steady, telling him that it was alright, that he didn’t have to do it if he didn’t want to. Marty needed to make him understand that he did want this. He wanted to suck Emmett’s cock more than he’d ever wanted anything probably. He tried again, taking it slower and shallower, broadening his tongue out to apply pressure. Emmett didn’t say much of anything that Marty could understand after that. 

Despite Emmett’s warning, his orgasm came as a surprise. Marty’s mouth filled and overflowed with acid and salt, and he had to swallow most of it or choke. A good bit coated his chin and dripped onto his chest. He just sat for a moment, hand on Emmett’s thigh, catching his breath. This was worth savoring. Emmett all but dragged him up onto the bed and stretched out with him on the mattress. Broad hands touched Marty’s chest and stomach, thighs, crotch. He could hardly tell what sounds he was making, his skull was so full of white noise. It felt good. It felt right to be touched like this. 

After taking a second to get his bearings back, Emmett more than happily returned the favor. Marty couldn't believe the sight of this guy. Legs sticking off the too-small bed at crazy angles, hair tickling the inside of Marty’s thighs. Eyes closed, totally focused on the task at hand. He was good at it too. Marty was falling apart in his mouth within minutes. All for a perfect fucking stranger. It may as well have been a dream. He hadn't even done this with Jennifer, or any girl. But holy shit it felt more than real when Emmett kissed him after, the taste of them both still on their tongues. He'd give all of it up to keep this dream from ending. 

Sunlight nudged Marty awake. He didn't feel as bad as he expected to. His mouth was dry and he definitely needed a shower but his head felt alright at least. He didn't really know what to expect when he opened his eyes. He remembered everything, a bit too well even. Warm satisfaction still filled his core. It was tinged with shame, but he couldn’t bring himself to be entirely unhappy with the turn of events that had taken place. He could deal with it later when he had enough space to pretend it hadn’t happened. He had more immediate concerns this morning. After all, what was a man of that age and position doing taking a guy like him home? Nothing good, most likely. 

When he did finally work up the courage to open his eyes he saw Emmett still laying beside him. Eyes closed, but obviously awake. "Good morning," the man murmured. "Coffee?" 

It was such a normal thing to say it threw Marty even further off balance. "Uh, sure?" 

He rolled over and sat with his legs hanging off the bed to give Emmett room to get up. They were both still naked, clothes scattered in a beeline from the door. Marty’s boxers occupied a precarious position halfway draped over a bunsen burner. Noticing that his jacket was dangerously close to some wires he strongly suspected were live, he realized he’d just spent the night in the poster child for fire hazards. Marty snorted and shook his head. If Emmett was going to kill him it would probably be out of negligence and not malice. 

Pulling off the top sheet and wearing it like a robe, Emmett offered Marty a bashful grin and turned a percolator on. It was the only thing on the counter not entirely surrounded by clutter. "I'm afraid the only shower available is out in the back. It's private but cold. Still, you're welcome to use it." 

Marty shrugged. No worse than the communal showers he’d been putting up with. It would be fine. "I'll be just a minute, thanks."

The morning chill was refreshing, and it was nice to just stand under running water in the open air. It wasn’t the worst set up by a long shot. He toweled off his hair and dressed quickly, reinvigorated. The smell of coffee drew him back inside. Emmett offered him a cup and then ducked out the door to take his own turn. 

They must have been out in the countryside a way. Large trees grew up on all sides, and he couldn't see any direct neighbors. It really was private. Marty had just gotten lucky and hooked up with the one eccentric loner that wasn’t a lunatic. He laughed a little at that, uncomfortable with the notion. Sooner or later he would have to puzzle out what had drawn him here, and the implications weren’t something he was quite ready to face up to. His and Jen’s goodbye at the airport started replaying in his head on a loop.

Fresh and damp, Emmett poured coffee into his own mug and sat across from Marty at the table. White knuckles betrayed his internal tension. Externally, he said, "To be perfectly honest with you, Marty, I haven't done much of this so I'm not quite sure of the etiquette."

The way he tilted his head at that admission was endearing, Marty thought. There really was something about the guy. He looked like how static felt. Marty wasn't sure how to feel about that. It had to be relief at seeing an American. Just loneliness acted out inappropriately or something. It couldn’t be anything more than that. There was no reason he wouldn’t have known or thought about other guys before if that was the case. No, he loved Jennifer. Break or not, he loved her, and she was a woman. So there was no way he could be. He couldn’t even bring himself to think the word. 

"I, uh, me neither," Marty said, then took a deep drink of the coffee. It tasted a little burnt but it woke him up. "I guess I'll call a cab?" 

Getting back on the road and back to touring was the least appealing thing he could think of at that moment. Bad coffee or not, he had a feeling that the second he left he would topple over some precipice and it would be impossible to keep himself together. Emmett being there was the only thing stitching him up. He didn’t want to break down in front of somebody he barely knew. But touring was what he was here to do and it wasn't like he could ask for Emmett's number even if he did want it! He knew that wasn't something you did at least, especially with both of them being men and all.

Emmett nodded and smiled. "I'll call, it will be easier since you can't speak the language."

"Good point, thanks." 

The cab arrived not 10 minutes later. Marty guessed that meant they weren't as far out as his anxiety had suggested. "Hey, uh, thanks. I had a good time." 

Emmett's ears turned red and he scratched his cheek. "Happy trails, Marty." 

Marty suddenly really wished he had asked for the guy's number after all. Etiquette be damned. Back at the hostel, Marty laid in his bunk with his hands over his face, running over the events of the previous night again and again. Every time he tried to remember the feeling of Emmett's hands on his body, Jen's face appeared in his mind's eye. They had agreed to take a break this year before college, see if they still wanted anything to do with one another after high school ended. But still… would it hurt her to know he'd let a man blow him? Somehow the other way around didn't feel as serious. He could justify that somehow. But... he had been attracted to Emmett. He had wanted Emmett to touch him like that. And more.

It had to be a fluke. A one-time freak accident. Even if they met again it probably wouldn't feel the same. And even if it did, it wasn't like he found any other men attractive right? He had a brief flash of memory: watching Lee's hands work the bass and a feeling he didn't recognize as anything strange until now. Surely all guys appreciated the way men’s hands looked when they were doing something skillful like that. Surely they all wondered what it would be like to hold those hands. Marty groaned and kicked his feet out, deciding this exercise was bad for his health. He should keep moving, stay busy, just forget the whole damn thing. He was here to be a tourist, wasn't he? So time to tour.


	2. Went Looking For A Creation Myth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: slurs (brief), internalized homophobia, alcohol consumption

The gardens and the sweeping Gothic structures of the historic city were enchanting enough. Less gaudy than the streets of France, weightier than the modern downtown of London. It was old. It was impressive. Most importantly, it was distracting. He grabbed an early lunch from a streetside counter, trying to remember how to appreciate the novelty of the tastes and textures. He briefly wondered if Emmett knew of a good expat burger joint around here before shaking the notion and hitting the bricks again

He wasn't even sure if he wanted to go to college. He'd been accepted, which was great, and everyone was proud of him. He'd be the first of them. But God the Pressure! He'd probably fuck it up. It was a miracle he got this far at all, with his grades and shit the way they ended up. Jen had saved his ass, really and truly. Who else would he want to be with? What else was there to think about? She was good for him. He could take care of her, whether he went to school or not. It would be a good life. He ground his teeth as he looked up at an old palace facade. Evening now. And he couldn't keep running from himself. 

It was always going to be a long shot. To be honest, Marty was surprised he even managed to find the same bar twice in a row. No plan occurred to him as he stood in front of the entrance. Opening the door alone was almost a step too far. He had no idea what he was expecting but he couldn’t do anything besides try. He certainly didn't think he'd see Emmett the moment he walked through the door of the bar they'd met at, sitting in the same spot. He was more alert tonight and looked over to the door the second he heard it open. His surprise was obvious. 'He was hoping I'd come back,' Marty thought, the idea of being wanted in return tingling in the palms of his hands. 

Emmett stood but didn't approach. He wrung a scarf in his hands, full of energy with no clear outlet. Marty walked up to him, if he was going to do this he was going to do it. The rest he could figure out as he went. "Hey, you know anywhere with decent American food?" 

At that, Emmett's face broke out in that stunning grin of his. It chased away Marty's confusion and left him certain about one thing. He'd take advantage of this for as long as he could. If he had to pretend it was a dream later, that was fine. Maybe he was… maybe he was gay! It didn’t have to matter long term if he was going to go to college and marry Jennifer. One day he would probably laugh about it. For now, he wanted to keep that smile in his life for a few more hours, identity crisis be damned. Everyone wants to be wanted. 

It wasn't quite the same, and Marty made sure to say it, but at least Emmett laughed and agreed. He had taken Marty to a much smaller place on the main road. It was crowded and noisy, but they advertised large sodas and hamburgers so it was perfect. The hubbub around them kept things from getting awkward too quickly. Neither of them was comfortable acting intimate in front of an audience of students, so they didn’t have to figure out if they wanted to at all. The food was decent at any rate, even if no one in this country had ever heard of ketchup. 

"I'm just never gonna get used to it," Marty said, helplessly gesturing at the bottle of vinegar. "It doesn't even stay on the fry when you dip it!" 

Emmett shook his head and smiled, ignoring the third of Marty's outbursts about the condiments. "What are you hoping to find out here, traveling? I may have already asked you, but I hope you’ll forgive me for not remembering the answer."

Marty shrugged. "I think I just wanted to pretend the rest of my life didn't have to happen yet, for a little while.” He laughed. "Sorry, that's a little heavy for table talk. What brought you to Germany anyway? You said you're from kind of the same area I am, right? That's a long way to go."

Emmett took a bite of his sandwich and wiped his face on his sleeve. He shook a fry at Marty. "The scientific community knows no borders, Marty. And besides that, my family is from here. My parents immigrated to California when I was too young to remember." 

"Wow. That's double the culture shock. Must have been weird coming back." 

"Without a doubt, Marty. I've been here teaching for about 20 years now though. We go back to the states every now and then, but mostly for business." 

Marty cocked his eyebrow. "We?"

Emmett choked on his last bite. It took him a minute to get it down. "My dog, Einstein. I don't live at the lab full time. Usually just weekends. He stays home much of the time, so that's why you didn't see him." 

Oh, fair enough. Alarm bells faded for now. There was so much they didn't know about each other, only so much they could get through over the course of a couple meals. But Marty liked the guy. He was charming. Odd for sure, but in a way that made Marty feel comfortable like he never did at home. He had a lot going for him. Once again, in the back of his head, there was the question of what he could possibly want from Marty. He may not be a murderer, but surely something was weird here.

"I have to thank you, for last night," Emmett started, his ears flushing slightly. "Not just... that. But... I've been rather struggling lately, in my personal life. And I think you've helped me answer an important question." 

Marty hadn't really considered that struggling with yourself like this could be a lifelong thing. If that was the case he dreaded it. Just the past two days had been rough. Emmett looked nearly heartbroken. That could be all there was to it. He was a lonely guy trying to figure out his life and Marty was the first person he met that was enough of an outsider to be safe for experimentation. It made sense, but it still hurt a bit to think of himself as a convenience. Not that Marty wanted anything more from Emmett. 

"I'm glad to have asked it in the company of someone like you. Your... openness and wit made it an overall pleasant experience. You've got something a lot of these University students wish they had." 

Marty was skeptical. 

"You've got real tenacity. From what I've seen of you so far, that'll take you farther than anything. You can do whatever you put your mind to, Marty." 

Marty snorted at that. "Thanks for the pep talk. I don't know about that, but thanks. I know what you mean about the question though. I guess I'm still asking." 

They sat quietly for a few moments. Marty decided to break the silence. "You wanna show me more of that lab of yours? Sober enough to appreciate it today, heh." 

Emmett ruffled his own hair. "Sure. What the hell." 

There were up until after one, just talking. About their lives, Emmett's inventions and ambitions, Marty's apparent lack of the same. And then smiling and tired they went to bed together. It was different this time. Both of them were sober and aware of what it meant. Just taking things as they came, exploring each other gradually. Learning about themselves as much as each other. 

Marty offered himself, as daunting as the prospect was. He wanted it. He wanted to feel that. He wanted to know what it would take from him if anything. 

It hurt. It was messy and slow. And then the burn slowly eased into something else. Emmett took his time. He did his best to keep it easy. He watched Marty's face for any sign of regret or genuine pain. And then they were moving together. Sweating and lost in the motions. It felt good, different from what he expected. 

Emmett pulled out when he was finished, apology already on his lips for not being able to get Marty there. Before he could even start, Marty had pulled him down into an embrace, loose and languid, exhausted and whole. After a few minutes, they showered together and collapsed back into bed, asleep as quick as their heads hit the pillow. 

They lingered together a little longer in the morning, not wanting to face the day. It couldn't be helped. Monday loomed like a monster, and Marty's ticket out of the country beyond that. By midmorning, they resigned themselves to saying goodbye much the same, but not before Emmett had tucked his contact information into Marty's front pocket. 

"It's unlikely I'll be able to get away much during the week, maybe on Wednesday. I don't have a class so... But if you need any help navigating or translating.... just call. And otherwise, call me Wednesday morning or Friday night if you want to." 

"I'm leaving for Italy Saturday after next by the way." Better to get that out of the way now. 

"Ah. Of course. Well.... still. If you want to. Or if you want help packing. You know how to find me now." 

"Thanks. I will." 

Emmett impulsively pulled Marty into a brief kiss before he could walk out the door. It was impossible. Every time they saw each other may as well be the last. It had been a mistake to ask for more. It had been a mistake to ask for anything. 

But what a wonderful mistake it had been.

Marty’s head spun on the way back to his rented bed. Flashes of memory replayed over and over in his head, his breath shaky and his heart racing. He went to the showers almost immediately and took care of himself as fast as he could, terrified of being walked in on. He was just so worked up thinking about what had happened. It had felt... right. Something was there that had always been missing with Jen. Maybe not missing, but different. This was better somehow. It made him feel whole, seen, and hot as hell. 

He took it easy that day. Just wandering around a park, stopping by a free show in the evening. The atmosphere felt electric. Either everyone was really wired for the band or Marty was projecting. As soon as the music started he decided it didn't matter. It was different from what he was used to, the language giving it a quality he couldn't name. He danced, full of motion and madness and needing to act on it more than anything. As alone as he was in the moment, he didn’t feel it. 

Elation mingled with fear in the base of Marty’s skull and threatened to overwhelm him. He drank. Five glasses in, he vomited into a bush. He stumbled out of the venue, dizzy and suddenly exhausted. The street outside was quiet. The emptiness slammed into him like a truck. Gay. Sissy. Fag. Queer. The words circled him like vultures, picking apart the thin skin covering the hollow place in his chest. 

Nothing came up the next time he heaved against the wall. The hostel. He had to get back. Had to find water, brush his teeth. Sleep. But God damnit every time he turned a corner Emmett was there with his stupid, gentle hands and his rough voice. Haunting him, taunting him. He turned on his heels, realizing he had taken a wrong turn or three. 

Marty slowed to a stop about a hundred feet back from the intersection. Jennifer. Jen was back at home. Waiting for him. She was waiting for him. He'd just... left. He left her and everything fell to pieces. Marty laughed, his breath hot and dry. He was useless without her, totally. The second no one was watching him he went and ruined his whole fucking life. 

In the morning he woke up covered in a layer of grime that had hardened to a crust. It was in his eyes, nose, mouth, coating his tongue. The faint layer of despair that had infected him still coated the inside of his skull. He tore through it as he pulled himself out of the bunk and into the shower. The water washed the external dust away but everything he’d let build up inside stayed no matter how much he scrubbed at his skin. He stayed until the water ran cold.


	3. Casualties

Wednesday rolled around and he stared at the note Emmett had given him. He wanted to call, he couldn't deny that. He wanted to see Emmett again. He wanted to touch Emmett again. Residual anxiety remained from his breakdown the other night. Still... No one here had to know. He would be gone soon and it could all be over, it could all be a phase. If he could convince himself it was just an experimental indulgence then he could believe everything would go back to normal when he got home. And if everything could be normal again... he dropped a coin into the payphone and dialed. 

Emmett was shy about meeting at his office but said it wouldn't likely be an issue since he looked like a student. He gave Marty a brief tour of the campus, pointing out especially historic landmarks and interesting features. Most of the buildings had been there before Marty’s hometown had even been a thought, so it was hard to understand why some of them were especially interesting. But Emmett was excited about them so he listened, and he couldn't stop himself from getting caught up with him. 

All the chaos receded while Emmett was looking at him. He wanted to reach for Emmett’s hand but contented himself with letting their knees brush as they sat on a bench overlooking the neighborhood, buildings, and cobblestone receding in front of them into the horizon. Everything looked small from where they were. Everything but him felt far away. Nothing could touch them. 

They parted ways with a hushed and quick kiss in the alley behind his building. Emmett held onto his arm a second too long.

"I'm glad you called, Marty. Every time we say goodbye everything I thought I knew falls apart, but then I see you and I understand again. I hope I see you again over the weekend." 

Emmett's words struck his lungs. They were fingers on guitar strings, playing his chest. Marty wondered what sort of song they were writing together. 

"I'll call you, for sure." 

Footsteps crashed through the glass bubble of their safety and they separated. Marty grinned awkwardly and saluted him in mock respect. He walked purposefully out into the light and didn't look back at Emmett sneaking in through the door. He didn’t look back at all. The students outside passed him without a second glance, chattering and laughing about something that definitely wasn't class-related. 

The next few days were pleasant and mindless. Museums and galleries were stunning, wonderful even, but Marty couldn't stop himself from imagining Emmett talking animatedly about the exhibits and history of the place. Everything seemed more interesting when it came from someone so passionate. He didn't go to the big scientific one, hoping Emmett might join him on Friday. If not, he could always check it out next week. It was worth a whole day, either way. 

It felt ridiculous to have such nerves. They'd already done everything he ought to be nervous about and yet here he was in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to look clean and presentable. He wondered if Doc liked the more punk look he usually went for or if he would be embarrassed by that if they went to the museum together. He didn't do anything weird to his hair but kept his jacket with the pins. A few new, unfaded ones from his activities the day before dotted the front. He wasn't gonna pretend to be someone he wasn't. If he was being honest this week, then he was being honest. No making himself seem better or worse than he was. He was finding out what was at the base of him. Consequences could be dealt with later. 

The shirt Emmett wore made him burst out laughing the second he saw it. Attempting a casual lean against his car in front of the hostel, he looked like he owned the damn place and that wasn't strictly a compliment. Marty choked his laughter back at Emmett's wounded expression. The guy really had no poker face. He couldn’t fully kill the smirk, but he felt bad for making Emmett self-conscious. At least there was no reason for him to be stressed about his own casual appearance.

"Sorry, Doc, it's just," the wild pattern shouted at him from just below his eye line, begging for another look, "I haven't seen you wearing anything like that."

After reassessing the outfit, he decided Emmett looked more comfortable and confident than he had in the jacket and slacks of their past few meetings. "It really suits you," he said, and he meant it. 

Suggesting taking a trip to the science and technology museum was the best idea he'd had this whole week. Emmett lit up like Christmas had come early. He was every bit as animated and excitable as Marty had hoped he would be. It was hard to keep up with the way he whirled around, and he was only sure he knew what exhibit Emmett was talking about half the time. But god damn it if Marty wasn't enamored with the way Emmett’s hands moved when he talked. He was a conductor and Marty’s heart was playing him like a fucking bassoon in time with the cues. 

They had lunch at a Cafe a block away. Emmett knew it and the woman at the counter greeted him like an old friend when they walked in. They chatted a minute before Emmett asked Marty what he wanted to eat. Marty told him to go for a surprise, not like he knew what was good anyway. The woman winked at Emmett when he laughed and translated. Her expression was worrying but Emmett assured him she had the best food within a five mile radius no matter what he ended up with. 

"Come here often?" Marty said, half teasing, half-serious. 

Emmett shrugged. "Used to. Been about a year since I was able to. I used to spend three days a week volunteering at that museum as a teacher or doing restoration on exhibits when they needed it." 

Marty’s eyes went wide. "Are you kidding me? That's cool as hell!"

Bashful, but pleased, Emmett fiddled with his shirt collar. "Thank you. Unfortunately, it was taking time away from my research, and as I wasn't getting paid for this..." a shadow crossed his face. "It was decided I should focus more on my actual job."

They were distracted from the conversation for a moment when the proprietor carried over a large tray filled with different sausages, cabbage, apples, cheese, and bread. It smelled good enough to make Marty’s mouth water, and he thanked the woman in as decent of an accent as he could muster. She beamed and patted him on the shoulder before saying something to Emmett that made him blush, then bustled back behind the counter to serve some new customers. 

The red took a while to fade from Emmett’s cheeks, and he kept avoiding direct eye contact, but they kept talking happily as they ate. Emmett was right, this was the best food he had eaten since arriving in Germany. Marty built miniature sandwiches that bordered on sinful. He was warm and happy when they left. The sunset lit Emmett’s face and Marty’s stomach dropped at the sight. He couldn’t bring himself to crush the feeling that bubbled up inside him, even knowing it was going to bite him in the ass later. It was new and exciting, something unfamiliar and beautiful. He had never been good at controlling his emotions anyway, even when he wanted to.

They just slept together that night. Lazy kisses and touches that never quite crossed over into something sexual. It was intimate and safe. Talking about their fears and hopes. Marty told him about Jen, about the terror that came with realizing he had found something special here, about his breakdown at the concert. 

"She deserves better than me, even if we end up wanting to get back together," Marty said, staring at the ceiling while Emmett thumbed tiny circles into his shoulder. "I don't think I could ever be honest enough with her, and still be her boyfriend." 

The silence next to him was deafening. He suddenly realized it was probably a mistake to talk about his girlfriend to his mistress, even if they were taking a break. Maybe it made Emmett feel like he was crossing a line. Emmett sighed and pulled Marty closer. The warmth was reassuring. It weighed down his doubts. 

"You should choose what will make you happiest, even if it hurts at first," he said quietly. "She sounds lovely. If she cares for you as much as you care for her then she'll want both of you to do what's right for you." 

Marty just hummed his response. It had been a long few days and he was tired. 

"I hope I'm strong enough to make that choice someday too."

It was a whisper almost too quiet for Marty to hear. The sadness was obvious though, and the fear. He turned and kissed Emmett, wanting to chase away his demons as Emmett had for him. They could still pretend things were okay here in the lab, where everything felt far away. They could've been in California, Germany, hell even the moon for all it felt like the world could reach them there. Marty wondered if anyone else's lips would taste like this. He wondered if anyone else's voice would sound as molasses sweet and sticky in the morning. 

Time moved slow the rest of the weekend. Every minute with Emmett stretched and compressed into something unrecognizable. They'd been together their whole lives, they'd been together a few hours at most. Saying goodbye Sunday morning fell off his lips like a curse. His departure Saturday was no longer exciting. The distance between his future and Emmett’s was a chasm he had thrown himself into without realizing he'd have to hit the bottom eventually. He saw it now. But he'd take every chance he could to slow his fall. 

When he wasn't watching whatever clock he could see, the hours seemed to jump around like crazy the whole week. He clung to it with his teeth, unable to decide if he wanted to hurry and get to Friday when he could see Emmett again or draw it out so long that he'd never have to see Emmett for the last time. Part of him wanted Emmett to come find him and ask him to stay or tell him he'd see him again. It couldn't happen. They both had lives to get back to, futures to meet. Reality was waiting at the edge of their shared dream. 

Pressure mounted behind his eyes as soon as they landed on Emmett’s car. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to. But the pressure didn't go away the rest of the morning. He was going to spend the night, and in the morning Emmett was going to take him to the train station. Whatever they did today had to count for a lifetime worth of possibility they'd never acknowledge. 

In the end, they decided to just stay in the lab all day. They fucked leisurely, taking time to just feel good and enjoy themselves. They took two or three breaks and just talked before gravitating back to each other's arms. When Marty came it left him empty and unsatisfied. He wanted more. He wanted so much more. He tried to fill the hole by swallowing Emmett’s cum as it filled his mouth. It just sat on his stomach like lead. 

Sleep didn't come easy, and they woke early. Marty pulled on his last pair of clean pants while Emmett made the bed. Laundry- another thing he would have to worry about tomorrow. He shoved his dirty clothes into his bag with a frown. They hadn’t said a word yet, at a loss for how to say goodbye. The knock on the door made him jump, but it made Emmett freeze. They stared at each other. Emmett’s mouth opened to say something, but another, harsher knock interrupted him.

After a heartbeat or two, Emmett raced to the door and yanked it open. A severe-looking woman stood frowning at the door, her fist raised to knock yet again. Her other hand held a leash, at the end of which sat a drooling sheepdog. Marty stayed sitting on the floor, confused by the sudden intrusion. This was an outside place, no one should have found them here. Other people didn’t exist. Emmett said something he couldn't make out in a hushed tone but was cut off by a single bark from the dog. It was staring at Marty and wagging its tail hopefully. 

The woman's eyes locked on him too and her frown deepened. She shoved her way past Emmett and stood over him. Marty was struck by the resemblance she had to a certain bicycle riding, dog napping neighbor from The Wizard of Oz. All she lacked was the hat. 

"Emmett, why did you not tell me you were having… company." 

Her tone was… weird. Marty decided pretty quickly that he didn’t like her. 

"I didn't think you'd care, Edna," Emmett's was off too, harder and more clipped than Marty had heard. He was tense. "He's the son of an American friend, he wanted to tour the university so I gave him a place to stay. I'm taking him to the station today, he's going home now." 

He was talking fast, piling in details before she could think to ask any questions. Emmett was staring at him pointedly. Begging him to play along with the cover story. Marty’s eyes flicked back and forth between them until Edna offered him her hand and they landed on her ring. 

"Edna Brown-Strickland. Emmett's wife. And you are?" 

Ice water flooded his body. The temperature dropped a solid ten degrees in an instant. "Wife?" He said, blankly, eyes going back to Emmett for a moment. 

The panic on his face was growing by the millisecond. Oh. He leaped to his feet and took her hand, trying to compose himself. Reality flooded back into the dream, startling him awake. 

"Of course, heard all about you!" 

He'd fucking pay for this, that bastard. How much else had been a lie? And Marty had told him everything. 

"Marty McFly. Yeah, just touring the college. Dr. Brown has been very helpful."

Emmett's proper title felt like poison in his mouth. The floor had just been yanked from under him and he was operating on Wile E. Coyote time. Edna's face relaxed slightly at the confirmation, but she still looked pissed. At least it wasn't with him. She unhooked the leash and the big dog immediately jumped on Marty, tail wagging and happily locking his face. 

"Einstein get down! Mind your manners," Emmett said sternly.

The dog listened but sat at Marty’s feet vibrating with excitement. Marty hoped his hands weren't shaking noticeably when he patted Einstein's head. He had to get the hell out of here as fast as he could. He couldn't even think right now. The prospect of sitting in a car with Doc all the way to the train station was the least appealing option. He’d rather hitchhike. 

"Well. I'll join you then. We can have some breakfast first. I'd love to hear more about your ambitions, young man, and how you know my Emmett."

Oh, that made it worse, actually. Everything about her was sharp and demanding. Emmett and Marty both tried to object. But the basis of time, business, desire not to intrude all fell on deaf ears. Marty wanted nothing more than to disappear from existence. He was an idiot. A man of Emmett’s age and position? Of course, he was married. Marty never should have considered otherwise. He never should have taken him up on this. The feelings he'd let fester were crushed under sudden disappointment. 

Breakfast was arduous. Marty had the luxury of being able to tell her the truth for most things, so when Emmett jumped in it didn’t seem suspicious or unbalanced. He did so less than Marty expected. He was quiet, cowed. It didn't just seem like fear of discovery. Marty would ask him a question and his eyes would light up, and then he would look at Edna and the spark would die. He never gave an answer longer than a sentence. It was depressing. Marty had a feeling she cut him off a lot. 

Edna seemed less than impressed by him, which was fine. He had made up some goals and dreams, wanting her to know as little about him as possible. The less she liked him the better as far as Marty was concerned. Still, it stung when she suggested he may want to look a little closer to home for a more "realistic" post-secondary option. As if he wouldn't be able to get into Doc’s school. He wouldn’t, but it was rude of her to say it. She reminded him of his vice-principal. Even had the same maiden name.

"You wouldn't happen to be related to Stanford Strickland would you?" He asked, on a whim, after she made a particularly passive-aggressive remark towards Doc’s slacker tendencies. He may have been pissed at Doc but seeing her rib him like that had his nostrils flaring.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Why yes, actually, he's my younger brother. Are you two acquainted?"

Doc would think all the jokes he had in the back burner were hysterical, he was certain. This was an absurd situation from top to bottom. "Yeah, he's the vice principal of the high school I just graduated from." He kicked himself for giving such an identifying detail when he’d been trying so hard to stay anonymous.

If Doc snorting into his water was anything to go by, he found that tangential connection to be as laughable as Marty did. To think they'd been living worlds away from one another and still only separated by two degrees. He let his mind wander briefly to what would have happened between them if they'd met elsewhere at another time. He wasn't sure they would have been lovers but he could believe they would have been friends. Emmett's charisma was basically formulated to appeal specifically to him. Was a shame Edna didn't seem to appreciate it much. 

Luckily she waited in the car while Emmett walked Marty to the railway entrance. Emmett's mask slipped away and he looked distraught. Good, Marty thought, he should be ashamed of himself. Marty couldn’t even comprehend how pissed he was. It ran deeper than he could express politely in public. He stopped just outside the gate and turned to face Emmett. This was the last chance he would get. 

"I'm not going to tell you to tell her, but Jesus Christ, Emmett," Emmett winced at the venom in his tone. "You should have told me. We shouldn't have done this." 

"Marty, I…" he snapped his teeth together so hard Marty heard it even in the crowded station, stopping himself from giving whatever justification he had. "You're right. No matter what I was feeling. I'm sorry I made you complicit."

It was more than Marty expected. He sighed. The anger rushed out of him, chased away by a sudden sense of loss. Dammit, he wanted to stay and figure this out. He wanted to be in Emmett’s life. He wanted suddenly, more than anything, to drag the dream of them out into real life. It was impossible before, what was it now? 

"Well. I can’t really blame you. Can't even imagine what I'd do if I were you." 

He wanted to stay angry, but thinking about Jennifer and if they were married he couldn't convince himself he wouldn't have done the same. Even if she made him happy, and Emmett certainly wasn't happy, he knew whatever had drawn him to Emmett would still be missing. They met eyes and Marty thought he'd never seen someone look so lonely. He wished he could kiss him now, crowd and Edna be damned. But no, he meant it. What they'd done was wrong and if anything were to ever happen again it was up to Emmett to make it right. Still…

"Damnit, Emmett," he grumbled and yanked his backpack around to rummage for the business card to the Czech hostel he'd be staying in after leaving Italy. He shoved it at Emmett. "Call me. I'll be here 2 weeks from today. So you don't… have to keep being alone in dealing with this."

Were those tears in his eyes? Emmett took the card but shook his head, disbelief evident. 

"But don't expect me to come running, I won't do anything else but talk while you're with her. And I need time, so don't call until then." 

Card tucked into his front pocket, Emmett held out his hand to shake. It was so formal it made Marty’s teeth ache. He tried to commit the texture of Emmett's palm to memory. This was going to be the last time they saw each other. He'd go home in a month and a half, get back together with Jen, go to college and study accounting or some shit, make his parents proud, have kids of his own, and then grow old and die. The dream would die too.


	4. Half Smiles, He's Half Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> full disclosure I know nothing about italian gay culture and also i have no idea what year this is set in so i'm just saying czech republic is a country

Italy was everything he had hoped it would be: bright, noisy, busy. He ate and danced and explored cities with more back alleys than streets. He got lost. He let himself forget everything that had happened the week before. A girl offered to take him home one night and he pretended he didn't understand her. Not that she wasn't beautiful but it just didn’t feel right. He was gun shy. 

A pair of guys led him somewhere in his second week. They were two tourists from Amsterdam that spoke a bit of English, and they were funny. The bar they ended up at was full of people in strange clothes. Men in dresses and necklaces, a few women in suits. He saw everything in between. Several pairs slow danced and kissed in corners, oblivious to the world around him. His heart raced when he realized this was a gay club, and the two men who brought him here were pulling him out to the dance floor. 

Had he been that obvious? Had something about him changed so that now people could tell he was the kind of guy who liked men? None of them looked twice at him, and he decided blending in would be better than panicking for now. He made his way to the edge of the room as quickly as he could, leaving his guides to the sound. 

People watching appealed to him, and this place offered a selection he'd never seen before. In theory, he knew about places like this. Lee had gone in one “accidentally” once on a trip to San Francisco. Marty and the guys had teased him about it for weeks. But seeing men so comfortable holding hands, dancing, kissing, everything… Marty was glad to see it. Even if it wasn’t normal, maybe it could feel normal in a place where people acted this way. People felt this way. People wanted these things from one another. There was a place they didn't have to hide that. He didn’t think he’d ever be brave enough to show it though, even in a place like this. Everyone’s ease with one another soothed his rush of fear back into something manageable. 

A few women chatted with the bartender. They bantered back and forth as he mixed drinks, obviously familiar with one another. One of the queens (that sounded like the word, but he wouldn’t say it until he asked someone if it was right) twirled a middle-aged man in a bowtie and laughed. People here knew each other, they felt safe. Marty bit his lip hard, overcome with the desire to see Emmett here, to dance with him here too. He wanted to have drinks together with friends and play footsie or something stupid like that. Even if Jen hated him, even if his family hated him, he could have this and he could have Emmett. They could figure out the rest of it.

Edna's cold voice cut his fantasy in pieces and he inhaled sharply. It was over. He couldn’t have any of that. 

Finding his wayward guides was easier than he expected, and they were only a little disappointed when he said he was leaving. The taller one kissed his cheek and Marty blushed, waving as he backed away. They were just guys. Assuming they were gay was the last thing he would have done. Even if he didn’t want to dress up and perform like the others, maybe there was a place for him with these people. Different people in different places, but they could be a home with enough time. Marty didn't want to sleep with those two but he could see himself wanting to, on a different day maybe. He wondered why he couldn't see that with the girl from a few days prior. 

Leaving Italy was a relief, as fun as it had been. Just another week until he would go home and have a chance to breathe. He spent the whole trip to Prague tapping his feet anxiously and scratching out shitty lyrics in a notebook. Half of them were too revealing to turn into a song. His mouth tasted bitter when he thought about any of the Pinheads finding out about his time there. As hard as they’d been on Lee, he had no idea if the others would react more seriously to a more serious deviant. At least Lee would probably be fine with him, as easy going as he was. Marty wondered if Doc would call. He wondered if he would pick up. 

Two days went by with no call. Either that or Marty had missed it and the desk clerk didn't care enough to record a message. Then four days passed, then six. Marty tried to enjoy himself but everything he saw reminded him of the time he'd spent with Emmett. Prague was decidedly more Germanic than Italy had been, even if the city itself was wholly unfamiliar. He approached his last day with dread. He didn't want to admit he was disappointed. Grief as a concept was unrecognizable to him, and he didn’t understand that’s what he was feeling. 

His mouth was dry and full of cotton when he woke up. His plane was leaving in the evening, so he had time to do another couple of things before heading to the airport. All he wanted to do was lay in bed and sleep. He was looking forward to taking some pills and just knocking himself out for the entire flight. With a groan, he lowered himself to the floor from the top bunk and staggered to the sink for some water to rinse his mouth. 

The desk clerk was dealing with some sort of hooligan when Marty entered the lobby. He didn't understand what was being said, but the guy was obviously causing trouble. Marty did his best to avoid eye contact with either of them and just headed towards the door. He froze when the guy arguing with the clerk called his name in a familiar voice. He turned slowly. Emmett was standing there, desperate and disheveled. When Marty recognized him his expression changed to one of relief and he all but dove towards him. 

"Emmett?" Marty said, suddenly not convinced he was awake. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Emmett stopped himself just short of giving Marty a hug. "I… I left. I told her I was leaving," he was wringing a scarf in his hands, the one he'd been wearing the night they met, "I wanted to see you before you left, Marty, I'm sorry. I felt we should talk about this in person. How long until your flight?" 

The situation in which he found himself would have made any dime-store novelist salivate if he was a woman. Half of their problems would be gone if he was, so no use going down that road. It was time to deal with the man in front of him as the man he was. The coffee was good here at least. He concentrated on the mouthfeel while Emmett stared at his bagel. Then Marty swallowed and choked through sudden laughter. Emmett finally looked at him, alarmed. Once he could breathe again he felt calmer, anxiety sufficiently padded with several layers of irony. 

"Just realized I'm a homewrecker," he said, unable to suppress his smirk. "Not exactly where I saw myself in five years you know?"

Emmett looked startled and then chuckled. "Believe me, it was coming whether you helped it along or not. I should thank you."

They sighed in unison and reached for their beverages. Marty wasn’t sure if him leaving Edna made things more or less complicated, but he was positive that the satisfaction he felt about it wasn’t a good thing. Whether Emmett had done it for him or not, he’d played a part. Hopefully, it would work out for the better for both of them. The whole scenario still left a bad taste in his mouth. 

"How'd she take it?"

"I have been forcibly removed from the property."

"Shit. You got somewhere to stay?"

"I'll be fine temporarily, long term I still own my parent's estate back in California. Seems as good a time as any to repatriate."

"Oh, damn. Well, that's good." 

Would he be close enough for Marty to visit? Would Emmett want him to? Marty felt bad for even wanting to ask, this wasn’t about him really. It was a losing battle against his willpower. They fell into an uncomfortable silence. He wondered exactly how honest Emmett had been with her. Had he just left or had he come clean about the affair? Jesus, Marty had had an affair. He’d been a mistress! Gay shit aside, the boys would have a field day with that one if it ever got out. They’d probably be proud of him, considering how much of a square Joey thought he was. 

Emmett shifted in his seat, eyes roving the room. "I wanted to tell you because I wanted to know if you'd be interested in, well, running some more trials, as it were? No commitment necessary, I simply couldn’t let you go without trying. Long term or no, you’ve become someone special to me, Marty." 

"I, uh, what do you mean by that exactly?"

If Emmett was asking what Marty thought he was asking, there would be a lot to think about. They would have to deal with family and friends, hiding their relationship, how their lives would fit together outside of a pocket in time. Even so, the prospect of seeing him again after he got home was… nice. It was nice. It made it feel like he had more time to figure himself out, without having to decide the second he put his feet back on American soil. Even if they didn’t work out it would be cool to have someone who understood, especially someone so interesting. 

"I mean you give me your home phone number, and we give each other some time to handle practical issues. When I get back to the states I… give you a call. And we go from there." 

Marty watched him closely. He weighed his fear against the memory of streetlights on Emmett's face. "I think I'd like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tempted to do a sequel to this with them back in hill valley, bc of the goof potential
> 
> this is the first fic I've completed in YEARS so even though the end is a little rushed I'm just happy it's Done


End file.
